Commotion of Emotions

                It was 25 th of December and I was in Kolkata. I had been in Kolkata for the past three years, but this was my first Christmas in the city. Every year perhaps I was the first one amongst my friends to rush home post examinations – The night after the final exam. But I decided to stay for a week and experience the enthusiasm of the city on Christmas, after all, people talk about Christmas way before it arrives. Park Street! Park Street! Burger at Park Street! Night out at Park Street! That is all I’d heard in the name of the festival.                 So, there I was, in the evening, getting all styled and dressed and ready to explore. One thing that I had realised in my stay in the city was that, you can never be at par with the clock, executing your plans when you are with friends. “Where’s my shoe now?”, “I don’t think I should wear this jeans!”, “Hey, is my hair good or do I brush it a little more?” All these were shouts I could hear as I stood at the gate holdin

The moon is staring at me; And I am staring at the moon. It’s peeking through the dark clouds, I am adjusting for a better view. It’s laughing at my existence, I’m laughing at its distance. The moon is turning blood red in anger, I witness it at the horizon; But what does the moon really think ? For I think it looks beautiful! A suspended ball bound to rise and set, A floating soul rising and setting. A spherical light in a murky setup, A man lost in questions in a world of answers. The moon is still staring at me, And I’m still staring at moon.

Every living creature on the planet wants to survive. Every living creature is programmed to push further its species.  But why? Why is everything the way it is? Why does evolution take place? What purpose does all this serve? What is life anyway? So many questions and so less answers. So here's another story out of fiction.                                                         When Life met Death A long time ago there was a craftsman, envied throughout the like and hated by the inconspicuous. Some considered his powers to be a gift but many related it to the curse set upon his father – The Caliph – when he had set out to do things that aren’t to be named. But just like the clown that grows up in an unhappy setup, he knew the power of darkness. He locked himself up in a room and after eons still he created something that should not have existed – an ether – trapped in glass. The strange smell at first enticed the entire race into a trance, but the wise knew it mean